


Bachelor's Button

by emiwaka29



Series: Paradis [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Morning Routines, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiwaka29/pseuds/emiwaka29
Summary: Every morning he wakes at sunrise.(Or, Flayn ruins his daily routine.)





	Bachelor's Button

**Author's Note:**

> Something short and sweet for our favourite family!

Every morning he wakes at sunrise. 

His eyes are welcomed by the blare of the rising sun. He will feel groggy for ten minutes, until he concocts a cup of spicy ginger tea to invigorate him. At times, he treats himself to the Four-Spice Blend. But that is rarely ever the case, for it is too pricey for daily consumption.

Accompanying his tea is flatbread. No toppings, no sauces. It is simple and filling, and is all that is necessary.

The sparrows chirrup outside his window and he listens. It is spring, and so there are little ones. He always smiles. 

It is then that Flayn enters.

Her hair is always tangled and such a mess in the mornings, and today is no exception. If he had to make a comparison...it is like a bird’s nest. 

He always greets her, “Good morning, Flayn. How was your rest?” 

(He also used to greet her with a forehead kiss, but she has requested that he stop years before. It saddens him, but it is what it is.)

And she always replies, “Good, brother…” with a yawn to accompany it. 

They both know it is a white lie, but they both know there is no harm. 

She used to always join him for breakfast. Now, it is only sometimes.

Ever since she joined the Professor’s class, she scurries to the dining hall to enjoy breakfast with her classmates. The menu always is plain porridge. Flayn has never liked porridge, but she goes anyway. 

When she needs respite from the dining hall gruel, she joins him for breakfast. She enjoys sweet-apple tea and cinnamon-dusted scones, with berries as an accompaniment. 

They will then engage in smalltalk. He does most of the talking, as Flayn is often too sleepy. The topics rarely stray. They are, as following: the weather, their food, his plans for the day, the Professor, her class’s upcoming assignment and the weather. 

(The third to last one is a recent addition, but it seems to be the topic that Flayn enjoys the most, so he has kept it.) 

“Speaking of which, brother,” –Flayn thinks she can hide a grin behind her teacup but she is false–“the Professor is quite the beautiful lady, would you not say?” 

Their talk of the Professor has never divulged in this territory before. 

He sips his tea. “I suppose.” 

Flayn hums and her eyes sparkle. 

“I think she would make quite a good wife. A good mother, even, with how well she cares for us students. Would you not say?” 

He takes another sip, but there is no hiding the strain in his movements. Just what is she up to? 

“Perhaps.”

There is a short pause. It builds the anticipation of her next words, and he does not like it one bit. 

She breaks the silence with a collection of giggles. 

“And _oh goodness,_ brother! By the way that your eyes have been chasing after her, I dare say–” 

He drops his saucer, and the rest of his tea falls to the ground.

“Flayn!”

Giggles and squeals joining the chirrups of the birdlings, Flayn jumps out of her seat and rushes for the door. 

She peeks behind the heavy oak doorway, and laughs with such delight it momentarily eases his irritation. 

“Think on my words, Brother! Farewell!” 

And then she is gone, leaving him with a broken teacup and spilt tea on his favourite doublet and rug. 

Pinching his brow, he thinks of how to deal with the mess. 

(He most certainly _does not _think of the Professor.)

He sighs.

He should go get Cyril.


End file.
